


ties that bind

by labocat



Category: A Charm of Magpies Series - K. J. Charles
Genre: Bloodplay, Extra Treat, M/M, Ritual Sex, Sex Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 01:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16483385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/labocat/pseuds/labocat
Summary: Crane had never thought much of All Hallows Eve — if the ghosts of his past wanted to haunt him, well, first he'd have to have any he cared to listen to, and then he figured they could do it just as well on any other day of the year. Dead things not staying entirely dead was easy enough to achieve, apparently, and magic was a fact of everyday life now. All Hallows Eve was just a night like any other.Or at least it had been until the damned Magpie Lord.





	ties that bind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [opheliahyde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/opheliahyde/gifts).



Crane had never thought much of All Hallows Eve — if the ghosts of his past wanted to haunt him, well, first he'd have to have any he cared to listen to, and then he figured they could do it just as well on any other day of the year. Dead things not staying entirely dead was easy enough to achieve, apparently, and magic was a fact of everyday life now. All Hallows Eve was just a night like any other.

Or at least it had been until the damned Magpie Lord. 

Stephen had been antsy all week, the electric buzz of his fingers growing more intense as the days wore on, to a point it hadn’t been since they’d returned from their tour of the Continent—to the point that almost every touch verged on painful. His magic—their magic—had been more settled since getting rid of the ring, but it had surged again in recent days. The magpies on their backs fluttered near constantly; Stephen had always been eager, but now he was damn near insatiable in addition to muttering things when he thought Crane couldn’t hear him. Things about ley lines, about the ether, about _Piper_. He spent his days out of the house, coming back with a shuttered expression, and time at home not in Crane’s bed was spent in the study, flipping through books of old practice. By the time he announced that they need to go to Piper, Crane was so intrigued and frustrated at turns he would’ve said anything to get Stephen to tell him just what was going on.

In retrospect, that mindset was exactly why he was flat on his back in the gardens of Piper, Stephen above him, eyes blazing gold, riding him like a man possessed—which Crane would have given serious thought to if it hadn’t been for the magic that linked them, that told him that for all that Stephen was acting odder than usual, it was entirely Stephen. The bond seemed to thicken with each shift of Stephen’s hips, the very air around them vibrating in the ether with every shuddering breath he took as he sank further onto Crane’s cock. Although it wasn’t the all-consuming magic that had raced through them and joined them last year, it was close, and Crane had the curious echoing sensation of fucking up into Stephen and being fucked at the same time, of not knowing to press up or press back, of which pleasure to chase. It was a sensation he was becoming more and more familiar with as Stephen gained better control over the quicksilver pressure of his magic, covering and owning Crane like no one ever had. This was different but familiar, the magic colder and bigger and racing through his veins instead of just over his skin. But it was still Stephen, Stephen and him, in him, on him, over him.

Stephen reached out, grabbing at Crane’s hand and linking their fingers together, their rings clinking unnaturally loudly in the silent night that was punctuated by their gasps and the slap of skin against skin. Crane’s other hand went to Stephen’s hip, steadying him as he raised himself up, falling back with a cry.

“Please, please, my lord, please,” Stephen babbled, twisting as he sought purchase to lift up again.

Crane brought their interlaced hand to his lips, more holding it there than kissing it, panting too hard to do much else. “Anything. Always, it’s yours.”

“I need you.” Stephen pulled their hands back to his own face as if Crane’s action had inspired him, holding them there, tilting his face slightly against Crane’s hand and letting his own hand slip down to grip Crane’s wrist to keep it there.

“You have me.”

Stephen shook, breath coming short, erratic as his movements as he clenched around Crane and drove them both higher. “Need you. In me, with me, mine.”

“Yours,” Crane ground out, seeking purchase with his own feet to bend his knees and snap up into Stephen, so hard it hurt and so desperate he could only focus on Stephen in front of him. He’d been happy to let Stephen take the lead so far—he seemed to know what he was doing, was the only person Crane would strip in the gardens of Piper on All Hallows Eve with, but he could never ignore against his witch asked of him. It tore a rough cry from Stephen, who mouthed at Crane’s hand, kissing it in lieu of being able to bend down and kiss Crane himself, their heights against them. Then, Crane felt the nip of sharp teeth in between kisses pressed to his fingers and understood.

Drunk on the magic in his blood, in the feeling of Stephen on him, in him, around him, Crane could say only one thing. “Do it. _Shit_ , Stephen, do it.”

“My lord,” Stephen murmured reverently, his eyes locked with Crane’s for a moment, the gold luminescence there seeming to press back the shadows of the night. Then he bit down into the meat of Crane’s palm. 

It hurt, but more than that, the magic in them blazed and Crane winced against it, unable to distinguish the crackle of Stephen’s hands on him, stronger with their magic mingling further, from the fire in his blood and the way he could tell his heart was thudding in time with Stephen’s, a brutal pace that pushed them both high onto and over the crest of pleasure. Crane’s back bowed, pushing impossibly further into Stephen and clenching around the magic that filled him and knew more than felt that Stephen followed him in his crisis immediately afterward, slumping forward into his chest. The gardens seemed to vibrate around them—Crane had heard Stephen talk about the ether before and how he drew power from it, could sense other people through it, but Crane had never been able to do anything with it himself, even when they were joined. He wondered if that was what he was feeling now, this awareness of every living thing on the grounds of Piper, the bones of the house steeped in magic, waiting. Waiting for them, it seemed. 

Crane could feel it push against them, tentatively, could feel Stephen give a small sigh of contentment, so he didn't figure it was malicious. He trusted in Stephen's decision when it came to these sorts of things. Welcoming it in felt more like coming home than Piper ever had, felt like walking into a room to find Stephen already sitting there, his crooked grin growing wider. 

They lay there, both basking in it until awareness crept back in, leaving Crane aware of every twig and rock pressing against his back and leg and shoved lightly at Stephen on top of him. 

“And just what was that? Not that I protest your taking control once in a while, but why did we have to come out to Piper for it? And why do I feel like the house is watching?”

Stephen climbed off with a small wince, moving to his knees as he started dusting himself and Crane off. “It's yours now. Don't look at me like that, I know it was your property before, but now it's yours, properly. Or ours, I suppose.”

Crane simply raised one eyebrow and waited. 

“Oh stop that. Look, the reason your ancestor, the first Lord Crane, built Piper here was because of the ley lines, yes? It's easier to draw power when they're nearby, and he could use them, so it was convenient, and it linked to him. After they were drained last year, I think they've been settling back, the lines and the house, that is. We woke them back up, that first time, and I think they wanted to cement the contract, for lack of a better term.”

“So it’'s tied to me now?”

“Us, I suppose, since it was only together that we woke it, and it's still together that we keep it. On the bright side, it should prove quite difficult for anyone to corrupt it now, since it's not tied to a single line.”

“How very reassuring. And tonight specifically?”

Stephen shrugged as he continued sorting through their discarded clothes, pushing pieces at Crane. “The stories say the border between the worlds is thinner. It's not true, of course, but there's enough old practice and beliefs and traditions that the ley lines are more active this time of year. It's been calling all week.”

Crane was silent for a moment as he pulled on his trousers, resolutely not looking anywhere but the ground.

“We won’t become the next Magpie Lord, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Stephen’s words brought his head up with a snap, then he forced himself to relax, resolutely not looking at either of their rings. “That power accumulated over generations of disuse. There’s power between us, I won’t lie, but it’s not likely to cause as much trouble.”

“Blood, bone, and birdspit,” Crane murmured, looking up at Stephen. “This took two.” He pinned his lover with his gaze, watching Stephen squirm as he tried not to answer.

“Technically three, if you count that we were on top of the grounds ourselves.”

“And you don’t think it’ll cause problems? I’ll trust you if you say no, you know,” Crane said, watching for all the small tells his prideful witch had for his myriad fluid lies.

“It shouldn’t.” Stephen met his eyes, which, lying or not, was all Crane really needed to know. Even if it were likely to cause problems, Stephen felt he could handle it, which was as good as it not causing problems in the first place. Aside from possibly having to come back to Piper again, that was. 

“Good.” He pulled Stephen close, bending down to draw him into a long kiss, relishing the feel of Stephen’s lips against his and the growing awareness of the grounds. “So long as it doesn’t expect us to live here. I was rather getting attached to the idea of travelling with you.”

“We’ll have to see, but I suppose it’ll all work out in the end. It wouldn’t do to have a house jealous, after all.” Stephen grinned against his kiss, the copper tang of his blood still present, and Crane wouldn’t have his lover any other way, even as he could feel the house settling and on top of that, feel the magpies coming back to roost.


End file.
